In silence the three of them looked at the sunset and thought about God.

We'll just have to find more flowers in the spring. That's when they bloom, tra la.

And yet, even as she spoke, she knew that she did not wish to come back. not to stay, not to live. She loved the little yellow cottage more than she loved any place on earth. but she was through with it except in her memories.

Betsy. The great war is on but I hope ours is over. Please come home. Joe.

I'm finished with something, but I'm not beginning anything. That's wrong. When you finish something, you ought always to begin something new.

The wastes of snow on the hill were ghostly in the moonlight. The stars were piercingly bright.

Do you girls have hope chests?' Lloyd asked. We certainly do.' I don't,' said Betsy. 'My husband and I are going to use paper plates and napkins.' Poor Joe!' Lucky Larry!